Less Than Perfect
by RobinL
Summary: Introspection and minor angst from Joe's POV.  Cupcake ending, but not entirely Joe friendly.


Title: Less than Perfect

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: I don't own them and I never will. Darn it.

A/N: Angst alert. In the same vein as _In a Rut_ and _Not Quite Right_. Not a Babe fic.

Rating: PG 13 for language

I leaned forward to peer at myself more closely in the cracked and aging mirror, straightening the black bow tie. I tugged on the right loop three times, but the bow was still listing to the left. I gave it up as hopeless, shrugging my shoulders. The motion raised my ill-fitting coat, making it pull tightly under my arms. Old Antonio was getting too blind to be the Burg's tailor, but my mother had insisted, "Anybody who's anybody goes to Antonio." I should've ignored her. As it was, I would've been more comfortable in a straight jacket. This dressing up stuff just wasn't me. I'd be happier in my favorite pair of jeans and an old t-shirt. I'd even suggested I wear that, but that idea was immediately vetoed. No argument was going to get me out of a penguin suit on this occasion. The Burg hive-mind would self destruct if I tried to pull a stunt like that.

Aside from being uncomfortable, I had to say I looked pretty good. My hair had been freshly cut and my face was clean shaven, for once. I was a handsome guy - enough women had told me that over the years that I believed it. If only I didn't have this scar on my eyebrow. I guess you might say it gave my face character, but I could've lived without it. Everybody thought I got it in a barroom brawl. The truth wasn't nearly so cool. The truth was I stumbled into my kitchen to get a glass of water in the dead of night and walked right into the corner of a cabinet door I'd left standing open. It bled like a mother, so I went to the hospital. When the pretty, dark-eyed nurse, Betty Marcola, asked me how it had happened, I blurted out the first thing I could think of that didn't make me look stupid and clumsy. That it contributed to my rep as 'bad boy of the Burg' didn't hurt either. It worked for Betty. She and I had a short-lived but passionate affair in the weeks following and parted as friends.

I smiled at the memory. That was all behind me, now. The days of charming my way in and out of the beds of women living in the greater Trenton metropolitan area were over. They had been ever since Stephanie Plum swung her gorgeous ass back into my life.

Brushing at a wayward hair clinging to my shoulder, I realized that it might have been a mistake to hug Bob on the way out of the house. Orange Bob hairs were scattered down the front of my coat. My mother would have a fit when she saw. I swiped ineffectively at the hairs and wondered if anyone had thought to bring a lint brush. I personally didn't own a lint brush, but maybe my mother had thought ahead. I shot my cuffs and smoothed my lapels. I buttoned the top two buttons of my jacket and then unbuttoned them. I was hot. I was uncomfortable. I was having a hard time standing still.

I blew out a breath. I was nervous, I admitted to myself. Fidgeting wasn't normal for me, but I was filled with a restless energy. Of course, a little case of nerves was understandable. Today, I was taking a big step, making a big commitment. Forever was a long time.

I sighed again then shook my head. That wasn't why I was nervous. Today was what I'd been working toward, planning on for years now. Sure, I'd dragged my feet along the way. Most men did. But I'd known this was ultimately where I wanted to end up. It was time to stop putting off the inevitable. We'd been destined for this since we were kids.

No, if I were truly honest with myself I knew I wasn't nervous about wanting this. I was nervous that Stephanie didn't. Oh, she said it was what she wanted. But deep down I'm not sure if the life I was offering her was exactly what she had planned on. I knew Stephanie loved me, I was just hoping that she loved me enough.

That was why it took me so long to officially pop the question in the first place. All along I suspected that Stephanie had been holding something back from our relationship. Through all of the ons and offs, the ups and downs, there was a part of Stephanie's heart that she just didn't let me have. I was just guessing, but I thought it was the same part of her that drove her to jump off roofs and track down serial killers. There was a wild streak in her that, frankly, scared me shitless.

Lately, though, it seemed that maybe she was ready to settle down. She was spending more time in my house and in my bed, than rolling around in God-knows-what and getting shot at. She'd even taken a part-time job at Victoria's Secret and it looked like she was gradually getting away from bounty hunting.

And I didn't even have anything to do with it. She was doing it all on her own. I know I'd told her to quit her job in the past, but I'd noticed a pattern where every time I suggested that, she moved out of my house or out of my life. At least temporarily. I figured if I wanted her, I'd have to keep my mouth shut. And as hard as it was, I did. So I was surprised when Stephanie started limiting her work for Vinnie to the low bond, non-violent cases. Don't get me wrong, I made no effort to hide the fact that I was thrilled that she would be safer and that I'd save a fortune on Maalox, but I was happy she'd made the decision on her own.

I took her lifestyle changes as a sign that Steph was ready to grow up. Less than a month later, I bought a ring and asked her to be mine forever. I'd thought about making it a special occasion, but I realized it would be a dead giveaway if I took her out to a fancy restaurant. That just wasn't us. So I took her out to the Tasty Pastry for a cannoli one night and had the girl behind the counter settle the ring onto the whipped cream on top. She was definitely surprised. At first I'd worried she'd pop the whole cannoli in her mouth and swallow it whole, ring and all. But she brought it to her mouth to take a bite and nearly choked on air. While she was speechless, I got down on one knee and asked if she'd make me the happiest man by becoming my wife. It seemed fitting that I asked her to be mine while kneeling on the same floor where I'd first staked my claim so many years ago. I held my breath and hoped that her tears were the joyful kind. After what felt like hours, but was probably only 30 seconds, she nodded her head and hugged me. We went home and spent the rest of the night making the most passionate, tender, mind-blowing love that I'd ever experienced. When I was an immature, young man, I'd thought I could never be satisfied with one woman. Now I knew I could never get tired of her in a hundred lifetimes.

It sounded so perfect, almost like a fairytale, when I thought about it. But everything wasn't perfect. And I was worried that something, or actually _someone_, was going to spoil my happily-ever-after. Someone like Ranger, the other man in Stephanie's life.

I wasn't thick. A person didn't make it to detective by being unobservant. I knew that Ranger was important to Stephanie. In fact, I suspected that she loved him and, in his own way, I think he loved her back. After the night Edward Scrog was taken out, I couldn't ignore that fact anymore. This being the Burg and all, I'd known about the stolen kisses, the lingering looks, the closeness that went way beyond friendship. For a long time, I thought it was one sided, Ranger just testing her limits. But after that night, and the nights that followed when I held Steph while she relived that night in her nightmares, I knew that Steph returned the sentiment. But, I also knew Stephanie. I knew that she wasn't a cheater. I just wasn't sure how far she'd let him push.

I knew they had been together, you know, _together_, at least once. As far as I could tell, it was during one of our "breaks" back when Abruzzi was the psycho-du-jour. We'd never talked about it, I never asked and she never confessed, but I knew it just the same. She was different when we got back together. At first I tried to convince myself it was because she was so happy to be back with me, but after a while I couldn't fool myself. She was more confident. More open. Bolder. Our sex life had always been great, but it went to a whole other level after she'd slept with Ranger.

It bothered me that being with him made such an impact on her. I suppose that certain sexual experiences leave a mark. Sometimes good, sometimes not. I was sure Steph changed after our first time together, though I suspected it wasn't for the better. I've always enjoyed the fact that I was Steph's first. If I could do it all again, I wouldn't have done it the way I did, but I don't regret for a moment that I was her first. It's fitting since I intended to be her last.

When I decided that I couldn't wait anymore to make her mine, I knew I had to confront the situation. I didn't want talk to Steph about it. I was afraid if I pushed on this subject I'd lose her. If I told her to stay away from him, I'd drive her right into his arms. So I decided to go to him and see what he had to say. It was the only time that he and I had a "man to man" discussion about being with Stephanie. We'd collaborated when her safety was at stake, but during those times, we'd always shelved the sexual rivalry. Before I proposed, though, I wanted to make it clear that there wouldn't be room for him in her life once she became mine for good. I'd never forget that day.

_"Yo," he said answering the phone with his typical grunt. It annoyed me to no end that Steph had picked up this habit._

_I skipped the pleasantries and got right down to it, "I need to meet with you."_

_"Is Stephanie okay?" I could feel the tension in him. I didn't know him all that well, but I knew he usually kept a tight rein on his emotions. For him, a little tension would be like me blowing my top. Same emotion. Totally opposite volumes._

_I snorted, "She's fine." No thanks to you, I thought. "You and I have some things to get straight. Pino's in thirty?"_

_"Shorty's in twenty," he countered and disconnected without waiting for my agreement._

_Okay, I called the meeting, I guess we could do it on his turf. But I had a moment's pause. Shorty's was the kind of place where a fight could break out on one side of the room and diners on the other side wouldn't even look up from their meal. To say that they wouldn't love a cop in their midst was to put it mildly._

_I pulled into Shorty's parking lot fifteen minutes later and was annoyed to see the black Turbo already there, sitting in a primo spot right outside the front door. I wondered what kind of bargains he'd made with the devil to guarantee his luck, because I didn't believe for second that he actually had a soul to sell._

_He was sitting in the back booth, facing the door, when I walked in. His eyes were calmly assessing as I approached the table. He looked like a terrorist, only scarier, because I knew he had more skill and more control than your average zealot. His location and body language were subtle yet effective ways of showing dominance. And they weren't done by accident. I have to admit he's a little intimidating, though being the kind of guy that I am, I'd never admit that out loud. Still, there was something in his bearing that made me think I didn't have him entirely fooled._

_I wondered, not for the first time, what a guy like him would see in someone like Steph. Sure she was beautiful, but she didn't belong in his world and he knew it. She was sheltered, innocent and he was anything but._

_"Ranger," I said, trying to sound civil as I slid into the booth._

_"Morelli," he returned, raising one fucking unmarred eyebrow in question._

_"What's between you and Steph?" I asked, getting to the heart of the matter before I lost my nerve._

_Ranger was silent for a long moment and I wondered if he was even going to speak. When he did, his voice was controlled and quiet, "You should ask her that."_

_I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table top of questionable cleanliness, aggravated by his evasion. "Well, I'm not asking her. I'm asking you. She tells me you're friends. I know there's more to it than that."_

_He nodded silently, but didn't give me anything else. I blew out a sigh and sank back in my seat, resting one arm along the top of the bench. Relax, I told myself. I needed to play it cool, be nonchalant, be more myself. But this guy pushed my buttons. And for some reason I was never calm where Steph was concerned. We silently stared at each other for several minutes and might have gone on that way if the waitress hadn't stopped by to take our order._

_When the waitress left, I spoke again, "I'm not exactly sure what kind of game you think you're playing with her, but it stops now. I'm planning to make her my wife and she doesn't need you anymore."_

_Ranger's lips twitched in what could've been a smile or a grimace, I couldn't tell for sure. "I'll leave it to Stephanie to decide what she needs." He did smile then, mirthlessly, almost to himself. It was the kind of smile that escapes when you've caught yourself saying something untrue._

_I waited for an explanation, but he appeared to be lost in his own thoughts. This was a first. I'd never seen him with his guard down for a minute, even when we'd worked through the night to get Steph back from Scrog. That's when it hit me._

_"You love her, don't you?" I asked, astonishment softening my voice. I didn't think it was possible, but I'd done enough interrogations to read the answer in his eyes, in the tight set of his jaw, in the white knuckle grip he had on his slipping control. I knew how he felt. Loving Stephanie Plum could make a man giddy and terrified simultaneously. _

_And now I knew his weakness. I leaned forward again, this time changing tacks. "We both love her, but we have very different things to offer. I'm offering security, a home, a family, a long, quiet, but happy life. What are you offering? Fast cars, fast money and a fast track to disaster?"_

_I stared at him and this time he couldn't hold my eyes. When he looked down, I went in for the kill. "Let her go, Manoso. It's what's best for her and you know it better than I do." He didn't answer, still staring at a fixed point on the table, but I could tell from the slump of his shoulders that I'd scored a direct hit. Silently he nodded._

_Relief filled me and I wanted to shout with joy and gloat just a little, but I decided to quit while I was ahead. I pulled out my wallet and threw a twenty on the table. That would more than cover my share of the pizza that hadn't come yet._

_As I was sliding out of the seat, Ranger's hand clamped down on my forearm, halting me. His eyes were still focused on the table. "Morelli," he said with quiet steel in his voice, "if you hurt her, they won't find the pieces. You can take that to the bank." He looked at me then and I knew without a doubt that it was no empty threat._

_I swallowed, nodded and when he released me, I turned and walked out the door without looking back._

My memory of that meeting was bittersweet. I'd won the battle and the war, but I'd never really know if I'd won the girl. She'd never be in a position to have to choose and I'd never have the security of knowing that she chose me over Ranger. But I did know that even if Steph wasn't sure about who she wanted, even if she wanted Ranger more, he was going to send her right back to me in the end.

How do you handle it when you realize the woman that you never want to live without is torn between two people? You can walk away and find someone new, but then you just end up cursing that new person to the same problem you were trying to avoid by forever loving someone else better than them. You can go for it and hope that what you have to offer is enough. Or you can confront them about it and make them choose. I guess the brave thing to do would be to ask her about it. I'm a pretty brave guy, but that was a conversation I never wanted to have.

I decided to give it my best shot and trust that Ranger wasn't selfish enough to go after what he really wanted. He let her go. So I guess maybe that made me the runner-up, the consolation prize. That's tough to take if you're a guy with my ego, any guy really. I wanted to be Steph's perfect man not second best.

A knock on the door interrupted my musings and my heart seized. I finally realized why I'd been so nervous all morning. I was half expecting to have someone poke their head in and tell me that Stephanie wasn't going to show, that she'd backed out at the last minute, that she'd hopped the last flight to Tahiti with Ranger.

I held my breath as the door opened and the ancient priest that did my christening so long ago appeared. His red hair had faded to wispy white and he wasn't as energetic as he had been when I was a boy, but his eyes were still clear and blue and didn't miss a trick. "Joseph. Are you ready?" he asked. "The bride has arrived."

"Yes Father O'Brien," I exhaled a relieved breath. "Give me one moment. I'll be right there."

"Good. We can't start without you," he said with a smile in his gently lilting voice.

I smiled in return as he backed out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Turning back to the mirror, I took one last look at myself as a single man. Not too shabby. The damn bow was still crooked and I yanked on it with no luck. 'Fuck it,' I thought and gave up. As I walked out of the dusty anteroom to meet my bride, I decided I was just going to have to be a little less that perfect.


End file.
